A Bottle of Wine and Thou...
by mags1
Summary: PG-13 for innuendo and lewdness. Confusing, stupid, pointless fic about The Morning After... doesn't that just make you slaver to read it...


Disclaimer: The world isn't mine. The characters aren't mine. And the real owners have more dignity than to write something like this. Ah always stuck with the dirty work

Rating: PG-13

Summary: The Conclave on January Second- a Morning After Ficcie

A Bottle of Wine and Thou

The morning of January second is an especially interesting time at Casa de Luna. Upon entering the spacious entryway, the first thing you will notice are the random piles strewn the whole length of the tasteful cream tiles. At first sight, they seem to be piles of clothing and garbage. The occasional curse and feeble grasping of a pale hand will quickly dissuade you of this notion, if the skittering of a particularily disgusting flannel shirt from the lamp light doesn't alert you first. Serious looking weapons- rifles, flare guns, the like- accompany lie haphazardly against the wall. And on the floor. And in the chandelier. As one of the piles reaches out towards a nasty, modified peace of work, the enlightened observer moves on towards the dining room.

If the entryway looks like fall-out, then the dining room is ground zero. The grisly remains of a huge meal molder on the expensive table cloth. Flies buzz over decaying rib roast and caviar. They seem especially interested in the wine, which gives off a faint coppery odor. More amorphous lumps await in the far corners and along the edges of the walls. This time, however, they show no signs of life, even when prodded. Many, many empty bottles of wine sit forlornly at the empty spread. It is deathly quiet. 

Beyond that scene of slaughter, behind a heavy wooden door, can be heard vague, pathetic noises. As one approaches, they resolve themselves into voices:

"Mmmm Lily" nibble, nibble, slurp, "honey, when did you get so fuzzy" slurp, grope. 

An ugly pause.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" scrabble.

"Umph. Don' scream." Yawn. "Why'm I all slimey?"

Ugly pause the second.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" gag. Frantic wiping noise.

"Stop bloody screaming!"

Ominous silence.

"Lily!"

"Lily!" 

"I said STOP IT! Oh woozy. Pretty elephants. So pretty"

"How come I never get 'lephants." Urp. Random crash. "Ick."

" Cash? You look all green-y if you vomit on me I swear, I will cut off your testicles with a dull, dull"

Frantic scrabble. "Don't worry guys I won't let the bad lady touch you"

"You should be so lucky!" 

" mean, bad lady"

"Cash." Princely pause. "Stop talking to your crotch." Long-suffering silence. "Right now. Please."

"They're scared. An' when they get scared, they hide. See?" Snapping of fly.

"NO! No thank you, Cash oh."

" ooo a pink bread stick"

"Breadstick?!" Plaintively. "See, I TOLD you they got scared."

"Yes. The evidence is right in of us. For all of us to see"

"Pretty pink bread stick like the elephants hungry" Stalking noises.

"Scared? S-ure, Gangrel."

"Shut'up, Brujah."

"Whatcha gonna do? Stab me with your letter opener"

"'S not a letter opener. 'S broad-sword!" Waving motion.

"Cash! Back in the pants. Right now!"

"But he called 't a letter opener gotta defend m'honor."

Horrified silence. "You aren't suggesting a duel?" 

" MY breadstick" Touch. Pause.

"Whoa!"

" squishy THIS isn't a breadstick, IS it? Cash! I'm going to take a razor and"

"See? Now they're even more scared." Demonstration.

"Toothpick." 

"Like you could do bet'er."

"I can." 

"Get that out of my face!" Angry smack. Running sounds.

"Ju-liannnn! Help!" 

"He can't help you now!"

"She's goin' after my Gangrelhood! Not my Gangrelhood!"

Slamming of door. Succesive pounding feet. Ominous silence.

"See, that's better isn't it?"

"Cameron. I have no desire to see that. Oh my eyes"

"Prac'tically a baguette." 

"Blind blind "

"Hell. Pancettasville." 

"Pancetta?"

"Rustic Italian loaf local bakery hadda class.." mumbling. "It's long AND thick."

"Enough! I'm never going to eat bread again"

"Reckon you're full anyway"

Vague eep-ing noises. Sound of eyelid twitching. "Full"

"You were chewing on my hair."

"Well if you hadn't been," disdainful pause," cuddling"

"Not my fault you've got enough baby-fat on you to be a pillow." Vague gesture.

"Would you PLEASE put that back in it's bread box?!"

"Killjoy." Rustling. "Oops."

"Oops?"

"No pants." 

"Arghhhh!"

"Aw. Now I don't feel loved"

Crash of door opening. 

"I got them!" Rustle of paper. "They're in the bag!" 

"Got what?" 

"Breadsticks! Cash's breadsticks."

Forlorn shuffle. Entrance of slumped figure. "Stupid, crazy lady"

"Cash? She took your?"

"Breadstick."

"Maybe I should go get Daedalus. I'm sure there's an ointment."

"Nothing can salve this hurt." 

"No I suppose not."

More rustle of paper. Crunch. 

"Noooooooo!"

"Lily what?"

"Breadstick!" Innocent smile. Smaller crunch. "Mmm. Tasty."

"Heh. Heh. She likes MY breadsticks."

Big crunch.

"Bummer of a metaphor, Gangrel." 

"What have I told you about eating in your room?"

"Gangrel-got-in trou-ble. Gan-grel got-in trou-ble!"

"Shut up, Cameron."

"We'll have roaches! I'll have to call the exterminator"

"Not my little friends!"

"Arghhhhhhhh!" 

Finis. 


End file.
